


Creation Out of Nothing

by theprodigypenguin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Aurors, Awkward Crush, Care of Magical Creatures, Cat, F/M, Gryffindor, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff!Lorcan, Legilimency, Legilimens, Light Angst, Lily x Lysander, Magizoology (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Post Cursed Child, Quidditch, Quidditch Keeper!Lily Luna, Rat, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw!Lysander, Self-Esteem Issues, Slytherin, Toad - Freeform, Witch - Freeform, Wizard, crack ship, cursed child complient, fanon personalities, harry potter series - Freeform, het ship, hogwarts pet, lily luna x lysander scamander, lilyander, lysander is a disaster, owl - Freeform, professional quidditch player
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-24 01:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18159791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprodigypenguin/pseuds/theprodigypenguin
Summary: “Now the name Potter-”“It's just a name for a dude who makes cups and pots.”“It's an occupational name for a maker of drinking and storage vessels, it's a name for someone who creates out of nothing..."~*~*~*~*~*~In retrospect, Lily and Lysander don't have much in common, but if you can't bond over feelings of self doubt and the concept of not being good enough for your family, then what else are you supposed to bond over?





	Creation Out of Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> So this is actually the first hetero couple ship I have EVER written in my ten years of writing, which explains why I was so nervous about it in the first place. I figured it really wasn’t good enough to bother editing much or going through the trouble of asking for a Beta reader. At first I was going to, then I kind of figured no one even likes hetero ships these days, and the writing probably isn’t phenomenal anyway, so why force someone to choke down 4k words of crap and make them suffer? Nah. So I just edited it myself, and I probably fucked up, but I hope the dialogue punctuation is okay, because that is my BIGGEST writing weakness. The thing is, as nervous and terrified as I am about posting this weird shit, I had about as much fun writing with Lysander and Lily as I did while writing my jeddyfest fics, so that probably means something, right? Since both Lily and Lysander don’t have much canon information on them, I took a lot of liberties with their characters and personalities, and I hope they’re enjoyable even if everyone has different headcanons for them. In this fic, Lysander is a Ravenclaw and Lily is a Gryffindor, and there’s more of course. If anyone can tell me what Lorcan’s deal is, I’ll give you a gold star~

There wasn't a lot more that Lysander could do to fully staple himself as an complete and utter freak in the eyes of the Hogwarts students. The son of infamous Luna “Loony” Lovegood and Rolf Scamander, a Ravenclaw like his mother, and seemed to have a disorder where he just vomited pointless facts when he got anxious or panicked.

Unlike his lovable Hufflepuff twin brother, Lysander had a perpetual bitch face that he swore he didn't make on purpose, he didn't look at all friendly or approachable. In fact he looked like if you so much as gave him the wrong answer when he asked for the time, he'd sit you down and pull out a spreadsheet before giving a lecture on the history of time itself and its influence on magic.

His great grandpa said he was tenacious, stalwart and steadfast, like his great gran, and that he was absolutely perfect just the way he was, that he was his great gran's favorite but don't tell Lorcan, but how special was Lysander supposed to feel when he was so utterly terrible at the one thing his family took pride in?

Lorcan excelled in Care of Magical Creatures. They'd both grown up around animals, thanks to the majority of their family being magizoologists, so it was no surprise when the first time they stepped into the class with a seemingly dangerous creature, Lorcan befriended it within minutes and had it purring in his arms with the rest of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff houses watching in awe.

What  _ was _ surprising, however, was when Lysander went up for his turn, and ended up in hospital because the creature had bitch slapped him across the room.

Lysander was terrible with animals. A  _ Scamander,  _ of all things, had the worst grade in his Care of Magical Creatures class than anyone else in the entire school. He was an embarrassment, a disgrace, a disappointment, and even though his parents, grandparents, and great grandparents, all told him it was nothing to be ashamed of, what else was he supposed to feel aside from shame? He hated it.

He wasn't very remarkable at anything really. He couldn't even seem to make friends that lasted more than a month, always chasing them away for one reason or another. With his big mouth, his know-it-all personality, or the fact he had a bad habit of ghosting people out of insecurity. They would get too close, he would get scared, and he would ditch them before they could ditch him. He hated the way he was, wished he could be more like Lorcan, who was his only friend at this point, and that was only because they were brothers.

Lorcan was the only one who knew the real Lysander, and the only one who cared to put up with him.

Well, no. That wasn't quite right. There were others. The Weasley's talked to him, they were polite, but he grew up with them, so of course they wouldn't care about how weird he was. He wasn't exactly friends with any of them, though. They, and the Potter's, were honestly way out of his league in terms of coolness and reputation. Even Albus Potter was way too intimidating to approach on a good day.

Then again, there was one person from that family who always, no matter the circumstance, went out of their way to talk to him.

Lysander was standing on the covered bridge just outside the school grounds, leaning out one of the stone windows with his arms folded, staring down below into the ravine and vaguely recalling details of an old war story that Professor Longbottom had retold, about blowing the entire bridge up with the help of Seamus Finnigan. It sounded pretty fake to Lysander, but he wasn't one to question a teacher.

In the first place, the entire reason he was out there was to avoid everyone and everything, he just wanted to stand there staring at an endless pit beneath his shoes and think about how much of a family disappointment he was, but life just had a way of ruining his day in the best ways possible. 

“Lysander!” 

It was a familiar voice that made him cringe and brighten at the same time, flattening his hands against the cold stone windowsill and glancing down the bridge where Lily Luna Potter was jogging towards him. It was hard to be annoyed at her presence for very long, that was like her super power. Especially since Lysander was always too excited to see her.

Initially he was going to greet her as dryly as he could manage, but couldn't speak when he really took in her appearance. Notably the red hair that had been chopped off at her shoulders, sections longer in the front than the back, uneven bangs getting in her brown eyes.

The first thing he ended up saying, being the observant boy that he was, was, “You cut your hair?”

She stopped a few paces from him, lifting a hand up and pushing her hair back behind her ear, “You don't like it?”

“No. No! I mean that's not- no it looks great! I just… wh-why did you get it cut?”

“I cut it myself,” Lily explained, frowning at the floor. “Just didn't want to deal with it. Kept getting in my face during Quidditch, distracting me… you know.”

“Oh. Well, it looks nice. Really. You have a good face shape for short hair. It works on you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, Lysander turned away and leaned further out the window, hoping the cold air would be a good enough excuse for his red cheeks. “What are you doing all the way out here by yourself?”

“Nothing,” Lysander answered. “Thinking.”

“Ah, of course,” Lily leaned out the window next to Lysander. “The Ravenclaw past time. So tell me, what is it you were thinking of?”

“Why is that important? Potter, don't tell me you hunted me down just to ask about my thought process. That's ridiculous.”

Lily just propped up her elbow and laid her cheek into her palm, head tilted as she watched Lysander from behind the bangs that shifted into her eyes, “Well, if I'm being honest, I was going to the Quidditch pitch, but you looked sad.”

“I didn't look sad.”

“You did a bit,” Lily turned her head to look over the ravine. “What's on your mind?”

_ Why did it matter, _ Lysander frowned at his own thoughts, continuing to stare blankly at the pit so far below him. He didn't know how to talk to people, especially Lily, but she was impossibly patient as she stood there leaning forward and waited for him to speak. At first he considered not talking at all, wait her out until she got tired of waiting for him to speak, but she was stubborn enough to stand her ground if she had to. Then he considered snapping at her and saying as many cruel things as he could think of to get her to go away, but he couldn't bring himself to even think of insults.

She was too kind, too good, Lysander didn't like people, but he could never hurt Lily.

“Can I ask you something? Without you telling Lorcan or anyone else that might tell my parents?”

Instead of looking concerned, Lily appeared to brighten at the concept of keeping a secret. “Absolutely. Ask away.”

Lysander was silent for an extra moment, the last bits of his resolve to keep this to himself fading away when he looked over at honey brown eyes.

“Do you ever feel like you'll never be what you need to be?” He watched as Lily's brow furrowed in confusion and looked away. “What people expect you to be, that is. When I first started here, got sorted, it made sense to me that I was in my mother's house, but everyone else seemed confused. They saw the Scamander and not the Lovegood, so they just preemptively decided I had to be exactly like my father's family. Later on I further approved their thoughts of my unnatural existence by showing just how bad I was at being a Scamander in the first place. Not only am I a Ravenclaw, I'm probably the worst person to be around animals. They just don't like me. I can't even handle an owl. Did you know that when my dad brought me to Diagon Alley for an owl, the one he picked out attacked me?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yea. Flew right at my face. So did the cat, and when we tried for a toad I dropped it and it glared at me, I swear it glared at me. Even the rat bit me, I still have a scar,” he cradled his left hand and frowned at the little scar on his thumb. “I'm pathetic. Sometimes I doubt I'm even related to my parents, that looking similar to Lorcan was some wild coincidence. I was dropped on their doorstep by a half troll when I was a baby.”

He considered feeling offended when Lily threw her head back in a laugh, but he did just call himself a half troll. What more could be done to offend him when he was already so good at it? He sank down, arms folding over the window sill and chin sitting against them, sighing.

“I think I get it,” Lily managed to choke out between laughs, calming down and leaning forward, looking back at Lysander with soft eyes. “Our situations are different, but similar enough that I can empathize. Your great grandfather was a significant figure in a war and single handedly redefined how the entire world saw and treated Magical Beasts,” she tilted her head, frowning and staring off to the side. “My dad was a person of interest in a prophecy and won a war. We were both born with certain expectations.”

“People always expect me to be like my parents,” Lysander muttered. “Nice, gentle, kind, soft spoken, airy. They see how sweet Lorcan is and doubt we're related. Do you know how many times people have talked to me and told me I was nothing like my mum or dad? Or my grandparents? Or my great grandad? They say I'm the biggest Scamander anomaly in history. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do after school. I can't go into working with animals, I'd get arrested for animal abuse without doing anything.”

“Hm,” Lily was leaning against one side of the window, tugging at an uneven section of red hair. “You know why I cut my hair off? For real?”

“Not because of Quidditch?”

“Sort of for Quidditch,” she dropped her hand. “My mum grew her hair out over the summer. Every time my dad or uncle Ron saw me they'd rant over how much I looked like her. I love my mum, but… I don't want to be a carbon copy. So I cut it off.”

Lysander found himself speaking before thinking, which he never did, “You don't look like your mum,” he said. “You look like Lily.”

She smiled at him, “I want to play Quidditch,” she revealed, hands flattening against the window sill and pushing herself up to sit on it hazardously, legs hanging outside the window so one wrong move would have her falling hundreds of feet to the ravine below. “It's the only thing that makes me feel real, like I'm my own person. The only thing keeping me from dreaming about it is how my mum was a Professional Quidditch player. I want to do that too, but not because she did it. I want to do it because being in the air is the only place I feel like I'm not tethered by my own name.”

“I like your name,” Lysander stood straight, watching Lily cautiously as she kicked her heels against the side of the wall. “They gave you my mum's name, I sort of have to like it.”

Lily laughed again, but honestly what didn't make her laugh?

“I'm not saying I hate it, I just think it has a heavy weight of expectation with it. I'm pretty lucky when you think about it, compared to Jamie and Al. What was my dad thinking? Naming them after such prolific wizards? James deals with it well enough, or he pretends to at least. Sometimes I see him standing in the hall just staring at the portrait of Sirius Black dad has hanging up. James wonders the same thing I do. How am I supposed to live up to this person? Make my father proud? Albus interprets it differently. He's more open about scowling through it, as everyone in the vicinity is aware.”

“He does scowl a lot.”

“I think he's going for the record,” Lily shrugged with her hands. “Albus is almost more burdened than James and I, because he was named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts. The part that bothers us the most, I think, is that we were named for people who died protecting our dad in some form. How can we live up to that amount of selfless, reckless love? I don't think it's possible.”

Lysander looked down slowly, at where he had his hands on the cold windowsill, “Maybe that's not the point of your name,” he offered. “I don't think Harry Potter would name his kids with the intention of burdening them with their namesakes reputations. He was probably just trying to honor the sacrifices made by ensuring the people who fell for the light lived on in new form.”

Lily tilted her head, “Think my dad is that smart?”

“I don't think I should answer that.”

Lily beamed and looked away, hands on her lap, “I'm going to join the National Quidditch League right after graduation,” she decided, “and I'll be a hundred times better than my mum. I'll make my own legacy. I'll be a different Lily Potter.”

“You're already a different Lily Potter,” Lysander argued, and she turned to smile at him.

“You know you don't have to be held down by your family name either, right?” 

Lysander couldn't hide the way his face got hot that time.

“What I mean is, just because you're related to a bunch of quiet softies, doesn't mean you're required to be the same way. Lorcan is a sweetheart, fine, but some people don't like that. You can be his voice, protect him when people decide he needs to toughen up.”

“What's wrong with my brother being soft?”

“Nothing in my opinion. You know how mean people can be though, and Lorcan isn't the kind of person who would defend himself, is he?”

Lysander wanted to argue, but in the end he just sighed in defeat, and Lily continued as if her statement needed further reinforcement. 

“All families will have an oddball in them. For us, that's Albus, but don't tell him I said so. For your family, you're the oddball, but that isn't a bad thing you know. You aren't required to become a magizoologist just because your name is Scamander, just like I'm not required to become Head Auror or win a war just because my name is Potter. I make my own path, no one else's opinions or expectations matter. If people truly care about me, they'll be proud and support me no matter what I do,” she turned to smile directly at Lysander. “It's the same for you. Don't be what people expect, life's no fun when you follow someone else's plan. Carve out your own way and shock everyone. That's how you leave a legacy. By doing something no one expects.”

Lysander quietly considered her words, staring down at his hands as Lily continued to kick her heels and make no move to remove herself from the treacherous position she was perched in. She was never one to run away from danger though, and she'd been that way since she was just a kid. Lysander remembered thinking she was crazy at one point, but sometime between the ages of five and now, his view on Lily had changed.

He didn't think she was crazy anymore. At least, he didn't think her insanity was a bad trait. In fact, he admired her bravery, and how she'd grown into it. Reckless abandon suited her. It made her shine. It made her unique. It made Lysander incapable of thinking logically. He wasn't one to stumble over words, no matter who stood in front of him, yet somehow Lily left him tongue tied.

“Everyone around me expects me to turn everything that makes me Lysander on axis and reveal myself to be the kind of Scamander they want me to be.”

“So what are you gonna do about that?” Lily asked, and it almost sounded like a challenge.

Lysander stood straighter and reached up to straighten his tie, “I guess the only thing I  _ can _ do at this point is the exact opposite, right?”

“Are all Ravenclaws as spiteful as you?”

“Of course,” Lysander turned, and Lily leaned back inside to watch him curiously. “How do you think we get so smart? Most of what I know, I learned out of spite, to prove someone wrong.”

“This is why Freddie thinks you're insufferable.”

“He thinks that because I  _ am _ insufferable. Yet you talk to me anyway.”

“I like talking to you,” Lily turned around and finally jumped back onto the bridge, straightening the legs of her jeans before smiling at Lysander again, “but right now I have a broom to fly before my free period ends. Can I catch you later?”

Lysander opened and closed his mouth before nodding like an idiot, and Lily beamed before passing him. Like the long gone soul he was, he turned to watch her go, seemingly incapable of tearing his eyes from the way the midday sun filtered through the stone windows and caught on her red hair, making it shine like fire.

He stood there long after she'd gone, only shaken from it when a trio of Slytherin students brushed past him, sending him looks that were both annoyed and unnerved. Lysander couldn't fathom why of course. He wasn't scary, just odd, and like Lily said, there was nothing wrong with that.

Lysander walked in a daze as he headed back for the castle, catching sight of his brother's blond hair before his appearance registered and he was enveloped in a hug out of nowhere. 

_ “Why _ do you insist on hugging me every time you see me? It isn't a requirement to initiate physical contact with me just because we're related.”

Despite his tone, his arms wrapped around Lorcan, and his eyes snapped around the area searching for sneers or snickers. They were alone, though, so Lysander merely hugged tighter. There was no use in trying to get Lorcan to stop this nonsense, he'd tried before with a long lecture about not appreciating how touchy-feely his brother was, but the Hufflepuff just smiled all the way through it before laughing at Lysander.

_ “I know you like hugs. You don't have to make excuses or pretend you're annoyed. I already know.” _

Why was he so damn  _ weird? _

“You needed a hug,” Lorcan said as he pulled away from Lysander, an attentive smile on his lips but his blue eyes somewhat glazed. They always were, though. He always had the appearance as if he was half in reality and half in a day dream.

“Says who?”

“Says you.”

“I don't remember asking you to hug me.”

“You didn't have to ask,” Lorcan assured, swaying on his heels and looking over Lysander’s shoulder towards the covered bridge. “You were with Lily?”

Lysander tensed, “Who told you that?”

“No one told me anything.” Lorcan was playing with the knot in his tie, which was always a little crooked, always a little askew.

Lysander automatically reached out to straighten it for him, because clearly Lorcan had no idea how to make himself look presentable. Lysander had tried countless times to teach him, but Lorcan either never paid attention, or purposely ignored the promptings just to get a rise out of his brother.

“How is it you always know everything?” Lysander asked, fixing Lorcan's tie before straightening his robes, as his brother shrugged his shoulders absently.

“I don't know. Are you feeling better?”

“Who ever said I was feeling unwell?”

“You did.”

“I never said that to you.”

Lorcan was smiling again, that half present, airy smile he seemed to have inherited from their mother, and pivoted on his foot to face away from Lysander, who puffed out an annoyed breath.

“Grandpa told me a story once,” Lorcan started, and Lysander followed behind as his brother headed for the castle, “about his uncle Theseus. Great grandad's older brother. He said you and I reminded him of his father and his uncle, and how they acted around each other. He said you were very similar to our great grand uncle Theseus, more so than anyone else.”

“Grandad always said I reminded him of nana.”

“Tina, uh-huh, that too,” Lorcan agreed. “You're like Tina, and you're like Theseus. Both of them were Scamander’s, but neither were magizoologists.”

“They were Aurors,” Lysander drew his brow in confusion, but Lorcan didn't turn around or even stop or slow his steps.

“You can be anything you want, and in the end you'll still be a Scamander. You aren't limited in careers just because of our great grandfather achieving something prolific and world changing. You can be anything you want. If it makes you happy, if you're passionate about it, mum and dad, and me, we'll all back you and your decision.”

Lysander reached out to grab Lorcan by the arm, pulling him to a stop until he'd turned to blink at him, “Who told you I was worrying over that?” he asked. “I never mentioned that to anyone.”

“You told Lily.”

“Yea, like four minutes ago,” Lysander revealed in a slow voice. “So how is it you already know? I asked her not to tell anyone, did she-”

“She didn't tell me.”

“Then who did?”

“You did.”

Lysander rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh and let go of Lorcan, who continued to watch him with a puzzled expression. He was the one to reach out then, taking Lysander's hand and offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“I just told you what I thought you needed to hear,” he said. “If you want to believe something else, I can't stop you.”

Lysander just watched as Lorcan started for the stairs, calling after him, “Why do you always know? Is it twin telepathy?”

Lorcan grinned over his shoulder, “You're just a very easy person to read.”

“Easy my arse,” Lysander grumbled under his breath, and Lorcan paused halfway up the steps.

“Did you know? The name Lysander mean  _ liberator,  _ or  _ one who is freed. _ Lorcan means  _ silent and fierce. _ It's almost poetic that our parents chose those names, isn't it?”

“So?”

“So names are important,” Lorcan reached up to mess with his tie, and Lysander nearly had a breakdown then and there to see it so crooked. “It just takes a minute to appreciate their purpose.”

He hurried the rest of the way up the stairs, leaving Lysander alone to wonder why the hell he knew such an obscure fact, then feeling annoyed that he hadn't thought to look up the meaning to his own name sooner.

“I need to go to the library.”

~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~

Lysander felt like he was buzzing, vibrating on his feet as he clung to his notebook and watched the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students filter out of the Transfiguration class. His fingers felt so restless he had to dig them into the corners of his book, and shot forward when he caught sight of the red hair he needed to converse with.

He weaved between the students, calling out to her, “Potter! Lily!”

She slowed her walk and looked over her shoulder, pausing completely when she recognized Lysander and turning to smile at her cousin Hugo.

“Go save me a seat in the Great Hall, I'll be there in a minute.” Then she completely faced Lysander, giving him her full attention. “What's up?”

“I needed to talk to you,” Lysander rushed, nearly dropping his book as he fumbled with it, eyes locked on Lily and her striking hair.

It had been pinned back out of her eyes with Muggle barrettes and multicolored ribbons, leaving her brown eyes in full view. That was nearly fatal, and Lysander struggled to tear his eyes from hers as he fought to open his own book.

“I was in the library-”

“Contact the Prophet, what a story.”

“No, no, listen. I was in the library, and I was looking up name meanings. Lorcan's fault, he knew something I didn't and that was unacceptable. Did you know my name means liberator?”

“Can't say I did know that.”

“Well it does, but that's not the point, see,” he nearly dropped the book again as he opened it to the right page, where he'd scribbled down notes. “You said earlier that you weren't very fond of your name, that you wanted to be different, something like that, so I looked it up, of course, and here.” He stuck the book out for Lily to take.

“You looked up my name?”

“All of them actually!” Lysander pointed. “The obvious one is the name Lily, it's a flower, but its meaning is actually really interesting, because the lily is a symbol of humility and devotion, but also purity or innocence after death. It's normally present during funerals, and it's the official flower for a second wedding anniversary. Flower language is quite fascinating.”

“Huh.”

“The name Luna is the easiest one, because it just means moon, but you take what the moon symbolizes in different cultures. It represents the rhythm of time, immortality and eternity, enlightenment and the dark side of nature.”

“I didn't know that. I just thought it meant moon.”

“Well it does, but you have to dig deeper into finding out what the moon itself means, what it represents and symbolizes, because nothing in our world is ever simply black and white. Now the name Potter-”

“It's just a name for a dude who makes cups and pots.”

“It's an occupational name for a maker of drinking and storage vessels, it's a name for someone who  _ creates _ out of  _ nothing.” _ He clung to the book, eyes wide, unable to discern what level of insane he may appear to be emitting to the people who were passing them. “The word storage means to retain something, notably data or memory, so one could argue that the name Potter means creation and the retaining of memories. That's really cool!”

Lily stared at Lysander with an unreadable expression, dropping her eyes to the book before a corner of her lips curled and her cheeks colored a soft pink that darkened her freckles.

“How long did you spend looking all of this up and interpreting it?” she asked, and Lysander couldn't answer because he had no idea.

He felt a shock of panic at the thought he may have missed classes, but the worry faded as Lily tossed her head back in a laugh.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment of laughter that had Lysander feeling both offended and enraptured. “This was… sweet of you. I guess I have a new understanding of what my name means, huh?” she took the book from Lysander again, staring down at his notes. “Guess I just had to grow into being Lily Luna, didn't I?”

“I think it's more like the name had to grow into being worthy of you,” Lysander defended with a notably dreamy tone, and Lily smiled at him again.

She shut the book and handed it back to Lysander, “What are you doing on Saturday?”

“Stu-”

“Besides studying,” she rolled her eyes and Lysander tensed, cheeks heating.

“I'm- nothing then.”

“Do you wanna walk to Hogsmeade with me? We can stop for a Butterbeer and get some Zonko’s pranks, I had an idea of how to mess with Rosie, she's been really unbearable during Quidditch practice.”

“I'm not really into pranks you know.”

“Yea I do know, but with  _ your _ brain, and  _ my _ prank experience? We could be unstoppable.” She emphasized that with a wink, and Lysander swore he could hear water roar in his ears as he nodded without any further argument.

When Lily started to walk away she stopped and glanced back at Lysander from over her shoulder, arching her eyebrow, “Are you coming?”

“It's not Saturday.”

“Observant of you, it's not, but it is lunch time, so if you're hungry at all, I was going to the Great Hall.”

“Oh! Yes! Good! Yes, I'm hungry!”

“Come on then, Mr. Liberator. I want to hurry before Hugo takes all the sweet rolls again.”


End file.
